


Such Great Heights

by annathaema (moony)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Planet, Camping, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marooned, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 06, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sexy Times, So Is Space, Time Is Wonky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 07:59:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moony/pseuds/annathaema
Summary: Suddenly Black sits up again and gives them both a playful purr in the back of their minds, before suddenly blasting off in a cloud of black dust. She soars up, up, up, and then she's gone.Keith coughs and spits dirt. "What the fuck is she doing?" he says into the sky, shielding his eyes to try and see her."I don't know!" Shiro's shaking tiny rocks out of his hair. "I don't know what she's up to!""Is she saying anything to you?" Keith scans the clouds, but there's no sign of any Lion. Then he catches sight of a streak of light as Black re-enters the atmosphere, landing on top of the very, very tall cliff."She's not talking," says Shiro. "Wait, she says—She wants us to take a break?" He looks bewildered. "What does that mean?"Keith bites his lip. "I think we've been set up."--Obligatory "and they were marooned" fic.





	Such Great Heights

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Hilldawg for the read-through! This was written on the fly in a couple of days. Not really beta-read by a Voltron fan so if there are inconsistencies/canon flubs, they're all mine.
> 
> Title from Such Great Heights by The Postal Service.
> 
> Happy birthday, Keith. <3

 

_They will see us waving from such great heights_  
_Come down now, they'll say_  
_But everything looks perfect from far away_  
_Come down now but we'll stay_

_—_

After a seven day streak of being stuck in the Lions, while every planet they pass by is either a gas giant or ice moon, Keith and the others finally come across a small world, fourth from a sun not unlike the one they know best. Keith's mother pulls up local charts and searches for it in the Altean archives, then opens the comms.

"Explorers called it Urthal,"  she says, reading over Keith's shoulder as he flies. "It's an old planet, plenty of flora and fauna but nothing intelligent—though these records are thousands of years old, so take that into consideration. Atmosphere acceptable by human standards, though we should still keep some oxygen on hand. Keith, you and I should be fine, Galra respiratory systems are a little different than a human's. The rest of you might find the air somewhat thick and metallic."

" _What's the gravity like?_ " asks Hunk. _"Am I going to end up crawling on the ground again? I can't help that I'm made of very heavy muscle!"_

Keith and his mother share an amused look. "Gravity looks okay," she says , tapping the dashboard. "Though maybe a little stronger than you're used to. Sorry, Hunk."

_"Aw, dang."_

"How long will we be here?" asks Keith. He knows he's stir crazy because he's even more annoyed than usual. "We were making good time."

"Then we have time to stop," says his mother, and Keith gets the feeling that this is not open for debate. "We've been in the Lions for days. They need to recharge, and so do we. You can't fly or fight if you're exhausted, Keith. Neither can the others."

"But—"

She crosses her arms and looks at him. Keith, subject to that expression for two years, immediately caves.

"Fine," he says moodily. "But just one night."

His mother smirks. "Two or three—stop glaring—should be enough time to get some real rest and stretch our legs a bit. We need to keep up your training, too."

Keith grumbles but keeps quiet. He isn't convinced that this is a good idea. He doesn't want to get into anything that will delay, or accidentally terminate, their journey home. But he also knows it'll be good for them to take a break, especially Shiro. Who is still recovering from being _dead._ His mind scuttles away from that word immediately, replacing it with _gone_ , which isn't great but is a little less _final_. He'll never forget hearing Shiro's voice in his head and the words _I died, Keith_ —he hears it in his sleep, in the static of the comms, in the space between words, in the bone-rattling scream of a laser streaking past his head—but he doesn't have to actively think about it.

He glances over his shoulder, past his mother. He can see part of the way down the corridor to "Shiro's room", which is really just one of the storage areas with a mattress from the castle and a lot of blankets and pillows in it. There's a blanket pinned over the door for some modicum of privacy. Hunk and Lance had made it for Shiro so he'd have somewhere comfortable to recover while they traveled, though when he's up Shiro often offers it up to people looking for a quick nap. No one so far has taken him up on it. It's  _Shiro's_ room.

It's where Should is supposed to be now, if not asleep then hopefully at least doing something restful. It's Shiro, though, so really he's probably drawing strategy charts on the walls or teaching himself ancient Altean algebra because it might be useful someday.

Keith sighs and slides out of the pilot seat, patting the controls and letting his consciousness brush Black's as he asks her to fly on her own for a while. He stretches carefully, wincing at muscles aching from fighting and being fought.

"Mom?" He nudges her foot with his and she looks up from the screens. "I'm going to check on Shiro."

She smiles. "Good, he should get up and move around. So should you."

Keith rolls his eyes. "Yes, _mother,_ " he says, trying to sound every bit the sullen teenager she hadn't gotten to experience for herself. She chuckles and waves him off. He grins and makes his way back to the cargo hold and to the blanket-door and raps on the boxes with his knuckles. 

"Shiro?" he says softly.

"I'm here," says a rough voice. "Come in."

Keith pushes the curtain aside. A pale blue emergency lanterns sits illuminated next to the mattress by Shiro's head, giving the little alcove an almost Castle-like feel. Shiro's propped up on what's left of the metal arm, poking dejectedly at a PADD with his remaining hand. He looks up when Keith enters and the hangdog expression becomes a sincere smile. "Hey," he says. "Taking a break?"

"Yeah," says Keith. "Just checking in. Do you want food?"

"If you eat, I will," says Shiro, sitting up. "And I'd like to come up front for a while. I've gotten all the sleep I can for now. I need to get up."

Keith nods. "Okay," he says. "Message Hunk that we're hungry? Should be lunchtime soon."

Shiro obliges, balancing the PADD against his knees and typing carefully with two fingers. Keith waits until he hears the soft _ting_ of the message being sent, then whistles softly, a little four-note melody he came up with while living on the whale. A second later Kosmo _bamfs_ into the room, taking up most of it, and looks at Keith expectantly. 

"Can you grab something from Hunk for us to eat?" Keith asks him. "You can have a treat if you do." Kosmo gives Keith a happy _boof_  and is gone in a flash of light and the smell of ozone.

Keith sits on the end of the mattress. "We found a planet, good for a pit stop," he says. Shiro nods and holds up his PADD so Keith can see the screen.

"Pidge hooked this up to Black's dashboard," says Shiro. "She thought maybe I'd like to keep an eye on things while I'm resting. Looks like a good place to rest for a while."

Keith looks at the PADD and shakes his head. "You know it only works because Pidge is Black's favorite."

Shiro nods. "Pidge is everybody's favorite."

Keith smiles. "Yeah, she is."

Kosmo returns a moment later with a _zorp_ , laden with a little backpack of snacks. Keith unpacks it and unwraps what looks like a BLT. He hands it to Shiro, and unwraps another to hand off to Kosmo. He takes it and _zorps_ away immediately, leaving Keith and Shiro alone and laughing.

Keith unwraps his and, with a shrug at Shiro, takes a bite. "A little mealy," he says, chewing thoughtfully. "The ketchup is probably blood, but it's not bad. Tangy."

Shiro shudders but gamely bites into his own sandwich. "Hey," he says, surprised. "That's pretty good, though." Shiro chews happily. "How long are we stopping for?" he asks through his mouthful of food.

"Just a couple of days" says Keith, tugging what could be bacon out of the sandwich and popping it into his mouth. It's kind of gamey, but okay. "Long enough to rest the Lions and for us to get some decent sleep."

"Do you want to rest in here ?" Shiro pushes aside the blankets. "I can go sit with your mom for a while."

"No, it's okay," says Keith. "I'd rather wait until we land. I've been gone too long as it is, Black's getting antsy." She's not, and she grumbles and threatens to rat him out. "I mean, I'm worried she is," he adds quickly. He finishes up his sandwich and takes the last one out of the backpack. "I'm going back up front. You should get your gear on."

"Eh," says Shiro. "Might need a little help with that." He rolls the stump of his severed arm. "I know this might sound weird, but even after everything, I actually don't remember _not_ having an arm. I had my real arm one day and then the next day I had a new one. So this is taking some getting used to."

"Yeah, let me hand this off to Mom." He leaves Shiro to shimmy out of his sleep clothes and returns to his mother in the cockpit.

"Shiro needs help getting into his gear," he says, handing off the sandwich. "Probably take a few minutes."

She nods, already digging into her food. "I'll let you know when we're close," she says, licking blood-sauce from her fingers. "There's no sign of any other ships in this sector. We should be fine."

"Famous last words," says Keith darkly. He gives her a little wave and goes back to Shiro's room, to find him struggling to get the black undersuit on.

"Yeah," says Shiro, sounding winded, limbs sagging and the suit falling to his knees again. "It's going about as well as you think."

Keith comes over and guides Shiro to turn around so that he can help him get his arm into the sleeve. They'd already cut the rest of the the other sleeve off to fit around what's left of his arm. They snap on the rest of the armor together, and Keith finishes up by buckling Shiro's belt. He steps back to admire his handiwork—Shiro in armor is always a nice sight.

"Thanks," says Shiro, stretching so that the armor settles against his body. "I probably don't need to wear this all the time, you know."

"Probably, but it's best to be safe until we know what's going on once we land." Keith realizes he's staring and looks away. "I'm going to go put mine on, too."

"Okay." Shiro steps out of the little room. "You can change in here, I'll go up front with Krolia."

Keith nods and goes to get his armor. He hates putting it on, it's a pain in the ass to get everything in the right order. The first time he'd put it on he'd had half of it backwards. Now, he's an old hand at it, but it's still clumsy and awkward. He dresses as quickly as possible and goes to join Shiro and his mother in the cockpit.

"There's the planet," Keith's mother says, pointing at the display. Keith sits in the pilot seat and looks at the screen. The planet isn't as big as Earth, and it's more a milky seafoam color than bright blue, but it's a beautiful sight after so long in the black.

Keith starts their descent. "You're sure it's unpopulated?" he asks. His mother nods.

"There's life but not intelligent," she says. She taps on the dashboard. "We should be fine."

The comms crackle to life. _"Is that where we're landing?"_ asks Lance. _"Who lives here?"_

_"Dinosaurs,"_ says Pidge. _"I bet it's dinosaurs."_

_"What's a dinosaur?"_ asks Allura. _"It sounds ominous."_

Hunk laughs. _"We need to show you Jurassic Park,"_ he says. _"Though maybe that's not the best movie to introduce dinosaurs. Maybe Land Before Time—nope, nope. Not that one. Maybe—"_

Keith tunes out the chatter and guides the Lions toward a large field abutting what looks like the beginnings of a rainforest.

"Have your bayards ready," says Keith over the comms after they land. "Just because we aren't picking anything up in the scans doesn't mean nothing's out there." He nods at Shiro and his mother. "Let's go."

The first thing they learn about the planet, once they step out of Black, is that it's little humid, but not unpleasantly so. It's welcome after the dry, recycled air of the Lions. Keith regrets putting on his armor—the air is deliciously warm and he'd love to stick his toes in the spongy grass. A look to his left tells him Shiro's thinking the same thing as he gazes around at the trees and brush in cautious wonder. Keith's mother sweeps a PADD around, peeks into the bushes and studies the skies. 

"Seems alright," she says. She takes off her helmet and takes a deep breath. "Well, I'm not dead, so I guess it's safe." She winks at Keith, who rolls his eyes but takes off his helmet as well. Shiro follows suit as the others tumble out of their Lions. Hunk immediately collapses into the grass, armor and all, flopping over onto his back and waving his arms and legs like wings. Lance tugs at the collar of his armor as though he's seconds from stripping down completely.

"This reminds me of my favorite sauna," he says. Allura looks intrigued, which clearly gives Lance encouragement to go on. "They're cool, made out of salt or special mud or wood. You should really give it a try,sometime." He walks over to a weird-looking tree to inspect it while Pidge laughs at him. Keith stares.

"Do you talk even if no one's listening?" he asks, not really caring about an answer. Lance gives him one anyway, sort of. 

"Hey, don't knock it," he sniffs. "My skin is as soft as a baby's tushie."

Lance isn't wrong. He  _does_ have good skin.

Keith rolls his eyes anyway and looks around at where they've put themselves. It's a good place for a camp, close enough to the trees for shade and shelter, but a nice flat area for setting up their gear, maybe some training later. It's not a hotel or anything, and Hunk is fretting about not having a real kitchen to work with, but Keith has to admit that compared to sleeping in the pilot's seat again, it's pretty nice.

Keith sits on a flight case with his chin in his hand, staring at Shiro as he makes the rounds, checking in with everyone one at a time. Keith doesn't even bother to hide that he's staring while Shiro talks to Pidge and gives her a sideways hug before moving on to Romelle. H _e's making sure they all know_ _he's alive_ , thinks Keith. _Making sure_  he _knows it_.

"You are _really_ obvious," says Lance, coming up and sitting next to him. "You know? If he hasn't noticed that you look at him like you're starving and he's the last meatball, he's insane."

"I'm not." says Keith. He doesn't feel like it needs more explanation than that. He is, but he's not going to give Lance the satisfaction of being right.

Lance sighs. "Listen, you need to fess up or something, because it's getting ridiculous."

Keith says nothing.

"Okay, fine." Lance hops off the case. "You just look so lost and miserable, is all. No one should have to be like that."

"That's just my face." Keith glances at him. "I'm the emo kid, remember?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "This would be so much easier to deal if you just dressed in black and listened to Panic." He turns and goes to Hunk, murmuring to him. Hunk glances in his direction, then mumbles back to Lance. Keith narrows his eyes. Pidge, after a moment of fussing with a PADD, scurries over to join them. They pass the PADD around and whisper to each other, periodically glancing over at him.

_What the fuck_ , thinks Keith,  _are they up to._

Briefly, he wonders if maybe he's being too paranoid. Lance has accused him of thinking the world's out to get him before—several times, at least every other day—and Keith's self-aware enough to know that Lance isn't wrong. So, maybe he's imagining things, as he watches the three of them converse. Maybe he should give them the benefit of the doubt.

Then Coran and Keith's mother are _zorped_  into the huddle by Kosmo, the traitor. Keith watches them very pointedly _n_ _ot_ look at him while gathered around the PADD in Pidge's hands. Keith can read lips—at the home he'd watch TV after hours on mute so as not to get caught, before he knew how to turn on captions—but not so many at once and he thinks they might be intentionally slurring their words so he can't pick them up.

Okay, yeah, he's excessively paranoid, but there _are_ shenanigans afoot. He's sure of it.

After a few more minutes of hushed conversation, the cluster disperses. Coran makes his way toward him and looks like he means business. Keith gulps and thinks it might be time to go help Hunk peel something.

"Ah! There you are!" says Coran, just as Shiro comes up next to Keith and unwittingly blocks his escape. "Just the fellows I've been looking for. Pidge has picked up an object nearby that's just brimming with energy similar to quintessence. She thinks she can convert it into something compatible with the Lions and give them a little more  _zoom zoom_. With that much extra power, we'd shave a good two or three phoebs off our trip!"

"What?" Keith pulls Coran's PADD—still in his hands—closer to be able to see. "Seriously?"

"How long to get there?" asks Shiro.

"Couple of vargas at most," says Keith, scanning the stats. He doesn't see anything that's setting off any alarm bells, not yet. He looks at Coran. "You sure about this?"

Coran nods. "It can't hurt to have a look! If nothing else, it'll be a nice paperweight, won't it?"

Shiro shakes his head. "I don't want to risk it for anything less than a 'yes, I'm sure'—no offense, Coran."

"Oh, none taken of course, but I _assure_ you I would not send you on a wild wargarat chase! No wargarats here!" He toys with the ends of his moustache. "I simply thought it would  _behoove_ us to look into any means necessary to make this trip go faster!"

"I'll go get it," says Keith, mostly to Shiro. "It's worth a look. If it works, we get home faster. If not, I had a nice solo flight for a few hours. And I'm not so far away I can't get back here quick if I had to."

"We could all go," says Shiro, looking unsettled. Coran opens his mouth but Keith is there first.

"Camp's already set up," says Keith. He points to where the tents have gone up in record time and Hunk and Lance are already preparing for dinner and chopping things, Romelle stoking the fire. Pidge and Allura are helping Keith's mother strip branches for kindling. They've been here thirty minutes and the camp looks several hours old. Huh. "We can't uproot everybody now. I'll go check it out." Keith has to admit, the idea of flying on his own for a little while sounds really, really good. He needs a break from the others, if only for a little while. His head's still a mess—a little silence would be nice.

Shiro sighs, the exasperated way he would whenever Keith had been written up for _insert petty offense here_. "Can I come along, then?" he asks.

"Really?" Keith blinks. "I thought you'd want to be out of the Lion for a while."

"Feeling adventurous," says Shiro. "Plus, I don't really want you to go alone."

Keith reads him loud and fucking clear: _I don't want to let you out of my sight._

"Sure," says Keith, pleased. Shiro is, will always be the exception. "Yeah, if you're volunteering."

They get the coordinates from Coran and after swapping supplies around and packing Black's cargo bay with emergency gear and some extraction equipment, Keith finds himself and Shiro back in the cockpit. Black burbles happily in the back of his mind, constant and loving where Red had been more chaotically fond.

"You really don't want to stay?" asks Keith as he does a short pre-flight check. "This trip might turn out to be a dud. Or we could get eaten by space lizards. Again."

Shiro laughs as he takes up position on Keith's right. He puts his hand on Keith's shoulder; to Keith it feels heavy and real. "Let's go explore."

Keith grins and Black blasts off into the sky. For a little while they're quiet, watching the displays in case anything looks suspicious. They're never going to be the sort to truly relax while on a mission—neither of them were before any of this—but after a bit of companionable silence Keith feels himself ease up a little. Just a little.

"We should still wear our armor and helmets," says Keith, as he and Shiro read the data together. Okay, maybe he's not really relaxed. "The air might be breathable but we don't know what's in it."

Shiro nods. "Keep your bayard handy, we won't be able to confirm that it's completely unpopulated until we're closer."

"No artificial satellites," says Keith, tapping the screen. "No local broadcast signals. Whatever—whoever—is there isn't talking to anyone yet."

"More reason to be careful," says Shiro. "We don't want to scare anybody."

They fly on, passing through a cloud of space debris that Keith navigates easily. "I don't think the Galra have ever been here. This system would be decimated if they had been, all of these natural resources."

"Hey," says Shiro. "Look at that."

Keith sees it. On the viewscreen are continents and oceans and clouds—Keith feels a lurch of sudden, nauseated excitement. "That  _has_ to be populated by  _something,_ " he says. "Jeez, that looks a lot like—"

Shiro nods and he doesn't finish the sentence, doesn't need to. The display _eeps_ at them. "Black knows where we have to go," says Shiro.

Keith guides Black into breaking through the atmosphere. "It's annoying that we won't know how this energy stuff manifests until we can get closer," Keith grumbles. "I'd like to know what we're looking for ahead of time."

"It'll be fine," says Shiro. "Knowing Coran, it's another crystal."

They sail over mountain ranges and lakes and rivers. The planet, like Earth, is covered with more—green-tinted—water than land. There's scattering of small islands and bigger stretches of dark grey dirt spotted with tufts of purple that Keith guesses are forests.

"It really does look like Earth, even though the colors are off," he says. "I keep thinking I'll see the Garrison if we just keep flying."

"There sure is enough desert in this area to make you think so, yeah?" Shiro says, squeezing his shoulder. Keith smiles.

Black takes them down to a large, grey expanse of rocks and dirt, with a small copse of what look like trees nearby. She lands right next to them in a cloud of dust. Keith follows Shiro out of the Lion, his first step leaving an imprint in the soil. "Wow," he says into the comms, leaning down and touching the ground. The dust is incredibly fine and sticks to his gloved fingers. He brushes most of it off and makes a face. "Going to have to scrub our gear down when we get back," he says. "This stuff's gonna get everywhere."

"What's a little space dust?" says Shiro. "I think the readings were right, though." Shiro lifts his visor and takes a deep breath, then another. The joy on his face is mesmerizing. "It's safe. It's great, Keith. Not as humid as the other planet. It's like when we went camping in California."

Keith follows suit, going so far as to take his helmet off completely. "It smells like… What is that smell?"

Shiro traces it to the little forest next to Black's foot. "It's the trees," he says, fondling a purple leaf. "They smell like roses."

"Weird," says Keith. "Okay, how far do we have to go?"

Shiro has a PADD in his hand, squinting at it. "This way," he said, pointing what Keith thought was due west. "Should we really leave the Lion here, though?" He looks up at Black. She gazes back expectantly. Keith shakes his head.

"She says she'll be fine," he says. "And for you to stop worrying so much." He cracks a grin. "Boy, does she know you."

Shiro grins. "I hope she doesn't tell you all my secrets."

"I already know all your secrets," says Keith dismissively. "I know you better than a magic cat spaceship."

Black growls in the back of his mind and she must do the same to Shiro because he laughs when Keith does. "Don't piss off our ride," says Shiro, knocking their shoulders together. "Let's go get this—" He looks at his PADD. "Haha, yep—it's a crystal," he says on a groan. "I thought it might be something different. For once."

"Coran's going to be real disappointed in boring Earth crystals that don't do anything," says Keith. "Okay, let's go get it and then come back here and eat lunch. I'm starving."

Shiro nods. "Copy that, Red Five." Keith groans and Shiro laughs.

"Due west," he says. "Coran said we'd know it when we see it."

"That's a little concerning," says Keith.

Shiro nods. "Yep," he says. "C'mon, this way."

They marvel at spiky grass and pink-tinted rocks as they walk, but Keith watches Shiro out of the corner of his eye. He looks so _young_ here, the worry line between his eyebrows gone, the set of his jaw relaxed, his eyes bright and darting everywhere. Not to measure up a foe, but in awe of a world that is a lot like the one they both miss like hell. Keith wishes Shiro always looked like this, the way he had at the Garrison, where he was a hotshot 20-year-old with the world ahead of him. Keith's mentor, his friend, his brother-in-arms. The guy Keith fell in love with, once he'd figured out how to do that. It's easy, because it's Shiro.

Shiro stops in his tracks. "Look," he says.

Keith follows his gaze to a rustling in the shrubbery. After a silent, still moment, a tiny lizard-like creature darts out in front of them, pauses to regard them curiously, then continues on to disappear into the shade.

"There's a local," says Shiro. His wonderment turns to caution immediately. "Be ready, just in case."

Keith already has his knife in his hand and his bayard in the other. "Got it," he says, expanding both so he can cut through the brush so that they can continue through the forest. There are no more lizards, but a few large flying creatures land in the trees overhead and watch them. Not quite birds, not like anything he's seen before. Keith feels their stares at the back of his head. "Think they're intelligent?" he mutters to Shiro.

"I thought about it," says Shiro. "We could try talking to them. Maybe they've been encountered before, they might be in our universal translators."

Keith stops. "Hey?" he calls up at the birds. "Can you talk?"

The birds don't respond. One of them takes off, and the rest of them follow suit. Keith and Shiro watch them fly away.

"Guess not," says Shiro. "Worth a shot, though."

"Maybe I offended them," says Keith. "Maybe 'can you talk' in their language is 'do you fuck your mother'?" He grins at Shiro's wince.

"I don't know why I keep forgetting you swear like a cargo pilot."

"Part of my charm."

"You have no charm," says Shiro with a crooked smile. "You're better off banking on your pretty face."

Keith shoves at him, his cheeks hot. "Says the guy whose mug they put on all the Garrison recruitment posters." Keith laughs. "I stuck one in the ladies' room, by the way. Every stall, at eye-level."

"How the hell did you do that?" Shiro asks, kicking a rock. It's a big rock, but the planet's low gravity sends it skittering across the forest floor. "Don't tell me you just walked in. Keith."

"Okay," says Keith. "I won't." Shiro groans, but he's laughing.

"You're feral," says Shiro, shaking his head. "Okay, I know I've asked you this before and frankly I don't buy that you got kicked out of the Garrison for fighting. You said you punched Iverson. What did he do to make you punch him? What did you _actually_ do?"

"He said some shit, not important now." Keith shrugs. "But at the time I was pissed and I wanted to make a statement." He smirks. "I put it _back_."

"Oh god." Shiro looks stern, but there's a glimmer of mischief in his eye. "Put _what_ back?" he asks.

"The X-300," says Keith, trying to keep the pride out of his voice. He fails.

Shiro stares at him, then slaps his forehead. " _Keith_."

"It was the middle of the night. No one even noticed until someone in town reported seeing it and then my roommate ratted me out and told them I wasn't in the dorms after lights-out."

"You idiot," says Shiro fondly, cuffing him on the back of the head. "You could have gotten killed, or at the very least damaged a billion dollar aircraft." He studies Keith for a long moment, until Keith wriggles under the scrutiny.

"What?" he asks. Shiro shakes his head. "What're you lookin' at?"

Shiro smiles. "How was it? he asks.

"What, getting kicked out? Eh." Keith waves a hand dismissively. "You know. Iverson yelling, the cops were called, I punched my way out and took off into the desert."

"I meant, how was the _plane_." Shiro grins. "I never got to fly it. It was supposedly meant for the Eris expedition, but I wanted like hell to just _sit_ in the thing. C'mon," says Shiro, twinkling at Keith. "What was it like?"

Keith beams. It's so reminiscent of their dynamic back on Earth that for a moment Keith thinks he might tear up. He's _missed_ this Shiro. "Awesome," he says. "I'll tell you all about it."

They walk for about half an hour, Keith talking with his hands about the plane and the aerobatics he'd done, barrel rolls, loops, Immelmanns. Shiro's eyes are huge when Keith gets around to the part where he'd taken it as high as he dared and let it stall, then let the plane freefall back into the stratosphere until the last second before pulling up, sending huge clouds of sand and dirt everywhere and causing the plane to _roar_ to the point of potentially permanent hearing loss. It sounded just like the Lions.

He leaves out the part where he almost didn't pull up.

"You are insane," says Shiro. He hooks his arm around Keith's shoulders and shakes him a little. Keith leans in, letting himself be manhandled. "I knew when I found you that you were going to make us all look bad."

Keith snorts. "Make _you_ look bad," he says. "How long was it before you passed the first sim challenge?" He grins, because it's one of the few things that makes Shiro grumble. True to form, he does, under his breath.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Keith snaps his fingers. "Oh, right! A month."

Shiro rolls his eyes and releases Keith. The PADD beeps. "Oh," says Shiro. "We're here."

Keith looks around. "There's nothing here?" he says. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"That's what it says," Shiro holds out the PADD so Keith can see. "These are the coordinates Coran gave me."

Keith makes a face. "So, it could be _anywhere_ on this planet. Great."

Shiro bumps into him. "C'mon, give Coran some credit. He's right more often than he's wrong." He sighs and keeps looking around. "This… might be one of the wrong times, though."

"Wait," says Keith. "Listen." They both go quiet, listening to the sounds around them: the strange _caw_ of the flying beasts, the chirrup of what Keith hopes are just insects, the breeze ruffling the rose-scented canopy overhead. Keith doesn't breathe.

There it is—the delicate sound of running water. "Through here," says Keith, pushing through the brush toward it. "Follow me."

Shiro does. Just on the other side of the trees is a small clearing next to a brook of bright green water. "Wow," says Shiro, looking around. It's beautiful, the ground soft with blue moss, the flowing water winking in the sunlight like handfuls of emeralds.

Keith grabs for the PADD and holds it up. "The other guys have to see this," he says, taking a quick panoramic. He turns slowly, recording everything, until he gets to Shiro. "Say hello."

Shiro flips him off instead, making Keith laugh. He's going to get Coran all the nunvil he wants for sending them here, even if he has the coordinates fucked up. Shiro has a broad smile on his face and twin suns in his eyes, and Keith surreptitiously snaps a photo. He wants to be able to remember this when they return to the others and Shiro goes back to business as usual: on high alert, vigilant, guarded. Keith has many reasons to hate the Galra, but number one is their giving Shiro the hunted look he tries to hide behind a mask of good-natured authority. Keith wants to get his hands around Sendak's throat for that alone.

"You done?" asks Shiro cheerfully. Keith nods. "Alright, do you see _anything_ crystal-shaped out there?"

Keith scans the area, narrowing his eyes. "Not a damn thing," he says. He crouches down and peers through the underbrush. "Hey, look at that." He darts forward and pushes the branches aside, brushing away dirt and grass and rocks to reveal a single stone brick, clearly handmade. "It _is_ inhabited."

"Or was," says Shiro. With Keith's knife they clear away enough overgrowth to reveal the remains of a path, stretching deeper into the forest. "Huh."

"Huh." Keith dusts off his gloves. "Should we?" He looks at Shiro, eyebrow raised. Shiro smirks back, the same crooked smile he'd get when goading Keith into hoverbike races. Keith inhales deep. "I mean, worth a look?"

"We need to be cautious," says Shiro. "But yeah, let's have a look." He gives Keith's shoulder a squeeze and a little shove. "Lead the way."

They cut and climb their way through the forest, using their jetpacks to cross more small streams and large piles of rocks. The forest is calm with dusky light filtering through the branches and the soft bleeping of creatures hiding in the shadows.

"Hey," says Keith, holding out his arm to bring Shiro to a stop. He gestures up at a tree to where a small animal, squirrel-like but with brightly-colored feathers, skitters across the branches. It blinks at them with beady yellow eyes, then suddenly jumps and glides to the next tree before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"Wish we'd gotten a picture of that guy," says Shiro. "He was kinda cute."

Keith huffs. "Probably poisonous," he says, his paranoia kicking in again. "But yeah, pretty cute." He grins at Shiro and they continue on, the crumbled path winding under their feet. Eventually the trees thin and the ground turns rockier, the plant life grows sparse and is limited to a few hardy orange flowers and scraps of spindly brush. The path peters out and then disappears, leaving them standing at the edge of the foothills and the bottom of a steep cliff.

 "This looks more like crystal-country," says Shiro, gesturing to the small hill they've come to. Keith takes out the PADD and scans the area. Keith expects a lot more nothing, but suddenly the PADD lets out an excited beep. Bingo.

"Coran was way off," says Keith, looking back at the forest. "We're a good half-mile from where he put us."

"Navigation is an art form," says Shiro breezily. "Give him a break, he's thousands of years old."

"So's Allura, and she could put the Castle on the sharp edge of a knife." Keith peers at the PADD. "Okay, north. To the rocks?" He frowns, then studies the cliffside.

Shiro follows his gaze and for a silent moment of troubled confusion they consider where they're being told to go. Keith really doesn't want to hike all the way up there only to find more rocks and boulders. Then he sees it.

"There." Keith points, tugging Shiro down to his level. "Right there, there's a shadow. That's not just rocks. It's a cave."

"You'd know," says Shiro, nodding. "Caves mean crystals. Let's go."

It is in fact a cave, the mouth of it several meters high, but what's interesting is that the path picks up just outside of it. "Wow," says Shiro, and Keith follows his gaze to two crumbling pillars. "Watch yourself," he says as Keith makes to go inside. "We don't know what this is."

"It's old," says Keith, pressing his palm to the base of a pillar. More of the black dust. "I don't think anyone's been here in a long, long time."

"I'm inclined to agree," says Shiro. "C'mon, let's check it out."

The maw of the cave looms over them as they enter and the caverns are high-ceilinged. "I bet whoever lived here was tall," says Keith. "I wonder what they looked like."

"Remember making up aliens?" Shiro asks. "Whenever we went to the diner?"

Keith smirks. "Your aliens were so _dumb_." Shiro frowns, making Keith laugh. "I mean, space whales? I mean, okay, you were right, but _still_."

"Space whales are _classic science fiction,_ thank you," sniffs Shiro. "Anyway, pretty sure most of your aliens were just stolen from old sci-fi b-movies."

"Whose fault is that, Mister  _Plan 9_?" Keith looks around a corner and stops. "Holy shit. Shiro, look."

On the other side of the cavern is a doorway, and beyond that is what Keith thinks was someone's _home_. Wordlessly they cautiously peek inside. The seating and tables are carved out of the smooth rock walls. There's what was once a kitchen, a long slab of rock with a deep divot, probably designed to hold water, and a huge fireplace next to it, blackened with use. Keith pokes his head under it; there's a chimney that goes up into the rock and Keith presumes outside. There are scraps of fabric on the floor, probably decayed rugs.

"This is weird and cool," says Keith, poking around, brushing twigs out of the shelves in the walls. "I wonder why they left this place. It's so peaceful." He leans against the kitchen slab. "It's like the desert house."

Shiro nods. "Yeah, it is." They search the dwelling and turn up some stones carved with worn pictograms they'll never understand, a sealed pot that when shaken seems to have some kind of liquid inside, but that neither of them wants to open, and a few pieces of what might be bone cutlery.

"Where did they sleep?" wonders Keith. "I don't see a bedroom."

"Probably in here," says Shiro, turning around and scouting the floor. "Where the fireplace is. Yeah, here," he says. In the corner where he stands is a large alcove full of dead, black leaves and dried-up moss, and frayed pieces of fabric. It's similar in size and shape to Shiro's 'room' on Black. "I'd bet anything this was where they put their bed."

Keith sits on one of the carved-out seats. It's not comfy, so they must have had cushions on everything. Or maybe their alien standards of comfort had been different from human. "This is cozy," he says. "It _really_ is like the desert house. I would've loved to have built something like this in the canyons."

"Hermit Kogane," says Shiro with a laugh. "The creepy guy who lives in a rock and rides a hoverbike."

Keith kicks his heels against the stone. "I was a hermit at the Garrison, so it wouldn't have been much of a change." He stands. "We still need to find that crystal, I don't want the light to go down on us here."

Shiro nods. They reluctantly leave the little house and go deeper into the cave. Sure enough, in an alcove the size of of a car there's an enormous, bright orange crystal, pulsating with subdued light. "Finally," mutters Keith. "But how the fuck do we get it back to the Lion? It's huge. We're not going through the forest with that."

"Don't forget that everything weighs about a third of what it does on Earth," Shiro says. "We do need mining gear though, and the hand-truck in Black's cargo bay." He closes his eyes and hums softly, with a little smile, and Keith knows he's talking to Black. His handsome features look so much softer in the dim light. He looks less like your no-nonsense bodyguard and more like your goofy boyfriend who makes you watch all of the  _Fast & Furious_ movies in one rainy night, when you really should be reading about quantum physics.

Keith sighs and dismisses the word _boyfriend._ Everything else is true.

There's a tell tale growl in the near-distance. Shiro opens his eyes. "Black's got us covered," he says with a grin.

"Red would only let me do that when she felt like it," says Keith. "Unless my ass, or someone else's ass, was in trouble."

"Surprised she didn't let you do it all the time, then." Shiro ducks away so that Keith's flailing hand doesn't connect. He starts to say something else but it's drowned out by the deafening roar of Black landing just outside the cave.

"Okay," Shiro says once the literal dust has settled, he scruffs Keith and gives him a playful little shove. "Let's get the stuff and get moving. Daylight's burning."

"We don't know how long it's going to take," says Keith, shrugging out of Shiro's grip and climbing the gangplank in a few strides. "I'm getting the camp stuff, just in case."

Shiro nods and they part ways once in the cargo bay. Shiro rummages around and puts tools on the cart while Keith opens the pallet of supplies Hunk and Lance had loaded in. As he pulls out a change of clothes and the survival packs, he's surprised to see what resembles a picnic basket. It has handles like a suitcase, and there's a note attached to it that says:

**Take a break :-) Don't worry, we're fine. Black will bring you back after you get some real sleep. <3 **

**—PidgeHunkAlluraCoranRomelleKroliaKosmo (and Lance but he's being a butt right now so f him)**   


Keith bursts out laughing. Shiro pops out of the flight case he's been digging in. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Show you later." Keith pulls the basket out. It's got some heft to it, even in this gravity, making Keith wonder just what the hell could be in it. He starts to open it when Shiro calls out to him.

"Ready to go?" he says. "I've got everything we'll need."

"Yeah." Keith grabs the basket and their packs and jogs after Shiro. He meets him outside and dumps everything onto the cart. He starts to say something but suddenly Black sits up again and gives Keith a playful purr at the back of his mind, then blasts off in a cloud of black dust. She soars up, up, up, until she's gone.

Keith coughs and spits coppery dirt. "What the fuck is she doing?" he says into the sky, shielding his eyes to try and see her.

"I don't know!" Shiro's shaking tiny rocks out of his hair. "I don't know what she's up to!"

"Is she saying anything to you?" Keith scans the clouds, but there's no sign of any Lion. Then he catches sight of a streak of light. Black re-enters the atmosphere, landing on top of the very, very tall cliff. She sits and immediately shuts down.

"She's not talking," says Shiro. "Wait, she says—She wants us to take a break?" He looks bewildered. "What does that mean?"

Keith bites his lip and holds out the note to Shiro. "Found this," he says, "with this." He holds up the basket. "I think we've been set up."

Shiro blinks, then groans. "This is Allura," he says. "She asked how I was doing and I was honest, I told her I was stir crazy and tired. I shouldn't have said anything." He makes a face. "Sorry you got dragged into it."

"It's not just you," says Keith. He feels murderous. "Lance, uh, sort of hassled me, too." He's going to kill them all when he gets back. Starting with _Lance_.

"We've definitely been set up." Shiro looks a little homicidal himself. "They intentionally left themselves vulnerable just to pull a prank on us." Shiro looks as stern as Keith's ever seen him, and he's stolen the guy's car. "That is _completely_ irresponsible."

Keith snorts. "And you're wondering why they think you need a break." He punches Shiro in the arm lightly. "C'mon. If Black's in on it, we're not going anywhere tonight." It pains him to admit it, while he's _twitching_ to get back to the others in case something goes wrong if Keith's learned anything from eight foster homes in four years, and then the strange world of the Garrison, it's how to adapt. He gestures to the pile of stuff on the ground beside them. "I've got our packs and food. We don't really need much—remember when we'd stay out in the desert on weekends? We had less than this."

Shiro doesn't look convinced, and Keith pokes him in the arm. "How am I being the positive thinker, here? You're the one with the weapons-grade optimism."

"You're right," says Shiro, shoulders sagging a little in defeat. "You're right, we're at Black's mercy, anyway." He looks back toward the cave. "Better hide out in there, in case there's something bigger than just weird not-birds."

"Whine whine whine," says Keith, flapping his hand like a beak. He hooks a pack around Shiro's shoulders and pats him on the bicep. "You're good," he says, taking up the rest of their stuff. "Move it."

They trudge into the cave and into the little house. Keith takes the remnants of cloth and dusts things down, but the truth is that there isn't much dust at all, or anything like cobwebs. No bivouacking insects or other creatures, either. It's a little eerie. Keith tries not to think about it and sweeps the leaves out of the alcove with his hands and feet. Shiro investigates the rest of the house with the PADD while Keith puts up their emergency lanterns and sets up their beds. They're bizarre contraptions Allura had given them before they'd abandoned the castle that fold down impossibly small but expand into a full-size mattress that actually accommodates all six-foot-three-210lbs of Shiro. Keith sets the beds up side-by-side and spreads their sleeping bags over them. It's so much like their campouts in the desert that Keith has to close his eyes and breathe out slowly, so that the aching nostalgia that overwhelms him doesn't make him choke.

He opens his eyes and moves all the way into the sleeping alcove to peel off his gear. He'd love to go back to the stream and take a dip, but they don't know what the water's got in it and as Lance had learned, in the itchiest way possible: don't blindly jump into an alien lake. Keith makes do with the glorified baby wipes in his pack and manages to feel somewhat cleaner when he puts on a shirt and loose pants.

"Check this out," says Shiro, coming back in. He's still in his armor though his helmet's finally off, and he has a terrible case of hat-head. Keith tries not to laugh as Shiro holds out the PADD to him. "The cave emits a specific energy signature, and I think it's keeping the bugs and animals away. Probably why They lived in here and not out there—makes you wonder _what's_ out there."

"Then we just won't go out there," says Keith. "Let's get you out of your gear." He puts the PADD aside and helps Shiro remove his armor, piece by piece, laying it out on the stone table next to Keith's. For a moment Shiro stands naked by the light of the lanterns, and Keith forces himself to look away. It's nothing he hasn't seen before but right now, in this place, it seems far too intimate to let his gaze linger over his best friend's skin. He only looks up once Shiro has donned his pajama pants, and the way Shiro moves and twists and stretches as he puts on his shirt makes Keith wonder if he feels strange in a body he wasn't born with. Does it feel exactly the same, or does it feels off? He wants to ask, but he doesn't want to bring it up. Shiro's doing so well, he hasn't had any nightmares in days and Keith doesn't want to be the one to inspire new ones.

He busies himself while Shiro settles in by digging through the picnic hamper. "Wow, check this out." He opens the case all the way so Shiro can lean over him and look inside. Keith has no idea what any of it is, but it looks good. Mostly finger foods, stuff that looks like cheese and crackers, things that could be grapes, and two little containers of something most likely made of food goo that smell really, really good.

Keith filches a piece of the 'cheese'. It tastes like—

"This tastes exactly like actual cheddar cheese," he says in wonder. "Try it." He holds up a piece to Shiro, who doesn't take it so much as lean over and nip it out of Keith's fingers. As Shiro chews thoughtfully, Keith's face burns.

"Wow," says Shiro. "I'd rather not know what it's made of, but I'll take it." He swipes another piece before they spread everything out on the floor between their beds. It's a _feast_ , bless Hunk. Keith marvels as they sit by alien lanterns and eat alien food in an alien cave on an alien planet, it's the best time he has had since before Shiro had left for Kerberos. It's been a long time since they've been together like this. They talk as they eat—Keith tells Shiro about the space whale, how his mother taught him to read and speak Galran and how he came to find Kosmo. Shiro talks about being in limbo and shares his observations of how the Lions' collective consciousness works.

"It was like the way they talk to us, but it _surrounds_ you. It's like being suspended in something warm and thick, not liquid, not air. I could hear the Lions interacting, not with words but with sensation, feeling, color, sound. I understood them, I think because Black didn't want me to go insane with loneliness.

"It was so strange, Keith," he says with a sigh. "Familiar, really comforting, but also so empty. I saw you all through the Lion's eyes and it was terrible to be so close and not be able to reach you."

"It sounds horrible," says Keith. "Being on the space whale was pretty isolating, but nothing like that. I had my mom and the wolf, but for a long time she was a total stranger to me. We only talked about safe topics like Voltron and, don't laugh, the weather. It was lonely as fuck, though it got better once I got to know her more. We started talking about my dad and the Garrison. She told me the Blade's history." He swallows. "Now I'm really glad I know her, but I'm also really fucking glad to be off that damn whale."

Shiro laughs. "And I'm really fucking glad to be out of that Lion." Keith snickers and before he can catch himself, he yawns. Shiro catches it and they yawn in tandem, so Keith puts the food away and douses the lanterns. There's faint light in the corridor outside the house to tell them that the suns are still up, but by Keith's reckoning it's well after their normal sleep cycle which is why he's suddenly so tired. He rolls onto his usual side, peering across the gap at Shiro, who is on _his_ usual side. It's no coincidence that it means they face each other. It's how it's always been, and Keith is relieved that it hasn't changed.

"Why didn't you just stay at the Garrison, Keith?" murmurs Shiro through the dark. "You would have been guaranteed missions once you graduated. Hell, I think they'd have rushed you through just to get you in the air in time to be considered for Eris."

Keith sighs. "No point," he says. "You were gone. What was I supposed to do? Iverson just needed an excuse to kick me out, so I gave him one. I was tired of being haunted by every authority figure in the place. Everyone knew I was going to get expelled eventually. At least it was on my terms."

"You had everything to gain," says Shiro, sounding frustrated. "You could have achieved so much."

"No," says Keith. "I had everything to lose, Shiro." He sighs. "And then I had nothing at all."

There's a long, long silence. Eventually, Keith assumes Shiro has fallen asleep, though his breathing doesn't seem right.

Suddenly he feels the air change and realizes Shiro has scooted his bed even closer to Keith's. Shiro's hand seeks out his and grips it tight. Keith's mind disconnects and he stares at their hands in the dim light.

"I'm sorry," whispers Shiro, soft and holy. "I told you I'd come back and I lied. I didn't come back."

Keith squeezes Shiro's warm, strong hand in response. "You did eventually," says Keith. "You were just _late_."

"Yeah," says Shiro. He sounds like he hadn't expected Keith's easy forgiveness. "I kept thinking, the whole time I was in there, about how you were probably pissed off that I wasn't back yet. I thought about showing up at the Garrison—thought you were still there—to surprise you, if I lived."

"If you lived," says Keith weakly. "You _did_ live. And I was definitely surprised." Surprised is an understatement. He'd felt so much joy in his heart he'd worried it would just stop beating altogether. But he'd had to hold it together around the others. Now? Not so sure he'd care what they would think.

Shiro grins. "Seeing you when I woke up was the best sight I could ever see." He tugged on Keith's hand. "C'mere. Just—come here." Keith obeys, letting him pull him from his own bed to Shiro's, where he's gathered up by Shiro's arm. "It's nice to actually _touch_ someone again."

"Mmf, touch a little more gently," says Keith, wriggling around like an octopus until he's curled up behind Shiro, pressed along his back. He wraps his arms around him and nestles in. "That's better."

Shiro sighs happily, making Keith chuckle into the hair at the back of his neck. They've never done this before—Keith was too young and Shiro on the other side of too old; it would have been weird and inappropriate. This is entirely new. Keith's mind races. Can Shiro feel his heartbeat, hammering through his ribs to dance along Shiro's spine?

Then Shiro scoots back a little closer and Keith stops caring about anything else but the press of his hand against Shiro's heartbeat—elevated, that's interesting—and the rise and fall of his breathing. Shiro says something, but Keith isn't paying enough attention to register it. "What?" he asks, dreamily.

"I was worried about you," says Shiro. "Still am. You look so different. We've been gone from each other for so long, we've both experienced so much. I was afraid, er, that things had changed."

"What things?" Keith leans up a little to look over at Shiro's face. "Nothing's changed."

" _You_  have," says Shiro. He shifts onto his back and Keith immediately darts under his arm to rest his head against his shoulder. Shiro laughs softly and Keith snorts and flips him off. He retreats long enough to tug his sleeping bag off his bed and drape it over the both of them before burrowing back under Shiro's arm. "There. Better."

"Much better like this." Shiro wraps his arm around Keith, and even though Keith has filled out considerably they still manage to fit together. Shiro is still bigger, but Keith doesn't mind  _at all_.

"I don't know how long night is on this planet," says Shiro, "but let's just sleep until we're not tired anymore. Shouldn't really go out in the dark anyway."

"I can't believe you just suggested we sleep in," says Keith with a little laugh. "You _must_ be tired."

They drowse together. When Keith opens his eyes next the room is entirely dark, the shaft of thinning light that had been visible in the doorway is now absent. Keith is still a little sleepy, but not tired anymore. He knows if he keeps sleeping he'll get a headache, but he can't move. Shiro has him tucked close and held there tight, hand tangled in Keith's hair. It's warm. Keith burrows in, listening to Shiro's deep, even breaths.

Keith wonders what Shiro remembers. It hasn't been long since Shiro's rescue—they haven't really had much of a chance to talk about everything. They haven't addressed the battle at the facility, though sometimes Keith catches Shiro looking at him with an unreadable expression. _He must remember_ , Keith thinks to himself. _They were the same person_ _, except not._

It makes his head hurt to try and parse it all. This Shiro, right up against him, this solid presence of flesh and muscle and warmth, is a different Shiro than the one he started out with. In body only, but it's still _weird_. He can't imagine what it must be like to Shiro, inhabiting a body he wasn't born with. Except the clone _was_ born in that body, and if Shiro has those memories…

"How are you _sane_?" he whispers, peering up at Shiro's sleeping face. He'll never again look like the man who pulled Keith out of a miserable little existence and showed him how it _could_ be, but it doesn't matter. Keith loves him in all of his incarnations. The white hair had been unsettling for about a day before Keith got over it and had started wondering if it's still as soft as it had been when it was black. Keith had often buzzed Shiro's undercut for him—Adam was hopeless with clippers and Keith had steady hands—and had taken every excuse to run his hands over Shiro's cropped hair. Keith's sure Adam had been on to him, but Keith was far from a threat so thankfully Adam had just treated him as any other cadet who happened to be Shiro's friend, instead of as a pathetic teenager with a crush on his mentor.

Shiro stirs, huffing and licking his lips. Keith stifles a laugh, but his shoulders shake and Shiro opens one eye.

"Mm?" A slow smile spread across his face. "Hey."

"Hey." Keith takes the opportunity to stretch, though he moves right back into Shiro's space once he feels a little more noodly. "Sleep ok?"

"Like a rock," says Shiro, yawning. "You?"

Keith yawns as well and glares at Shiro, who just gives him a sleepy grin. "Same," says Keith. "Warm. You're a good pillow."

"You're the first to say that," says Shiro. "I used to get complaints that I'm about as comfortable as a cement block."

"That just means you're sturdy," says Keith. "Also, bullshit, you're plenty comfortable." To prove his point, Keith lays his head on Shiro's chest, closing his eyes when he feels the press of a large palm between his shoulder blades. "Shiro?"

"Mmm?"

Keith swallows. "Do you remember?"

For a moment there's only the sound of water dripping from somewhere inside the cave and the gentle hum of a breeze beyond the entrance. Then, "yes." Shiro's hand slides up to curl around Keith's shoulder and pull him even closer. There's no space between them at all. "I remember everything. Everything he did and said, it's in my head too." Shiro clears his throat. "He didn't want to kill you, except when the witch told him he did. You stopped him."

_I love you._

"You know it wasn't you, though," says Keith. "You have to know that."

"I know," says Shiro. He sighs. "I just remember doing it, is all." The words are flippant but the tone is full of guilt and weak sarcasm. "I have these...thoughts. Intrusive thoughts. Showing me all the different ways I could have killed you. How I didn't know that the others had figured out a way to undo what I—he— _we_ did." His right shoulder moves the way it would were he bringing up a hand, probably to run over his face. He pauses and then sags in what Keith would call resignation. "I could have killed you all."

"No," says Keith. " _You_ were dead." He scoots to rest his head over Shiro's heart again, closing his eyes and focusing on its _lub lub_ rhythm. "And the clone wasn't really in on the joke, either. He—you, ah." He coughs. "He was fine once the arm was gone. Well, half-dead, but otherwise fine."

"You are _remarkably_ calm about this," says Shiro with wonder. "I can't believe you're letting me touch you. You shouldn't want to be anywhere near me."

"I freaked out, don't worry," says Keith. "You were in the pod for a while, and then you slept for another two days. I had some free time." He'd hidden in the little bedroom onboard Black, screaming into his sleeve and letting himself shake with sob after sob, aching with terrible pain and exhaustion from being attacked and beaten half to death by his best friend and nearly dying because he'd refused— _refused_ —to let go. Because Shiro is Shiro no matter what, and Keith _would_   _not let go_. He'd thought about how _lucky_ they are that Black had come for them. How _lucky_ they are that Allura had known what to do and was able to do it. She'd told Keith it was something she'd learned in Oriande. He'd hugged her close, buried his face in her hair—Kosmo had  _bamfed_ Lance into another dimension for a few minutes—and thanked her over and over again.

"I can't guarantee there won't be some bad times, but I'm doing okay," Keith continues. "My mom's a good listener and she's seen some shit, she's a big help. And Hunk and I have been talking over private comms when everyone's asleep. Did you know his sister is a psychologist? He had a lot of good stuff to say, if you ever want to talk to somebody he's probably a good start."

Shiro makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "Worth a shot," he says. He shifts and almost squashes Keith, who scuttles out of the way like a crab. Shiro laughs and rearranges himself, sitting up a bit more against the wall of the alcove. He holds up his arm. "Coming back?"

"In a minute," Keith says, sliding off the bed and turning on a lantern. He stretches muscles, stiff from being pinned next to Shiro for hours, then pads across the room and digs a water pouch from their supply pack. He passes it to Shiro, then jerks his thumb over his shoulder, toward the door.

"Back in a second," he says. Shiro, sipping from his water, nods him away.

As soon as Keith steps just beyond the mouth of the cave he stops and stares at the sky. There are _six_ moons of various sizes, all visible. They bathe the landscape in an eerie grey light. There's movement in the brush nearby and Keith can see silent, dark shapes in the sky—not close, but not far enough away to make Keith feel totally comfortable with their proximity.

He sticks close to the mouth of the cave and picks a nice little niche where he can take care of business. When he's done he takes another look at the sky, his eyes adjusted enough to see that the shapes are _big,_ circling lazily. He quickly nips back inside the cave, double-time.

"You should see the moons," says Keith as he enters the little house again, plucking one of the disinfecting wipes from the first-aid kit and cleaning his hands. He grabs a water pouch of his own and starts toward the bed, hoping for more of Shiro's reunion snuggles, or whatever this is, but Shiro's already up and stretching his arm over his head. Keith tries _so_ hard not to look at the strip of skin exposed below his shirt—he's only marginally successful.

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Shiro asks with a smirk. "Checking out the moons?"

"Asshole," says Keith, flinging a wipe packet at him. "Be careful, we're definitely not alone, and we are very outnumbered."

"Intelligent, do you think?" Shiro asks. Keith shrugs and shakes his head.

"Don't know, but doubt it. They didn't say hello." He shoves at Shiro. "Hurry up and go, it's not exactly warm anymore." 

Shiro salutes and goes. Keith starts to lie back down, then doubles back and grabs the hamper. He brings it to the bed and paws through it until he finds a container that reminds Keith of a bento box. There are four, so he takes two out and sets them aside, shoving the hamper away.

"You weren't kidding about our neighbors," Shiro says when he returns. He waves at Keith, who reaches up and drags a damp cleaning cloth over Shiro's hand. "Thanks. Gonna go out on a limb and say they're probably not interested in making friends." He slides back into bed. He gestures at the bentos. "What're those?"

"Dunno." Keith opens one and hands it to Shiro once he's settled. "They look like what you always had for lunch at the Garrison." They shift around until they're sitting side by side, the little boxes in their laps.

"Yeah," says Shiro. He's grinning down at his, then at Keith. "Hunk is crazy. And a genius."

Keith opens his own and laughs. There's something that could be rice, but probably isn't, covered in little edible shapes arranged to look like the Black Lion. "Geez," Keith picks up his PADD and takes a photo. "They really planned this."

"They're good friends," says Shiro. "Oh, check it out." Shiro produces a pair of crudely-made chopsticks that look like they might have started life as antennae. "Pidge?"

"Pidge." Keith nods. He tugs the basket closer and is relieved to find an Altean spork. "I wonder what Lance's contribution was to all of this?"

"I'm terrified," says Shiro, sending Keith into laughter. "Is that everything? That thing isn't that big."

Keith takes a deep breath. "It's bigger on the inside," he says, popping a green thing into his mouth. It tastes green. He drags the basket over with one hand and flips it open. "Okay, we have two more of these box things." Shiro makes a little _hooray_ noise that is so endearing Keith's skin twitches. He swallows and soldiers on. "We have green food goo cookies, those are actually pretty good, Hunk's made them before." He puts the container aside and looks back into the basket. He makes a face.

"Nunvil?" asks Shiro.

"Nunvil," says Keith. Keith takes the bottle out and considers leaving it behind when they leave. "And finally—" Keith's throat closes when he lifts the bottle and finds underneath an actual box of condoms and a suspicious little bottle. The note attached says, in Lance's loopy, archaic cursive:  _SPACE MALL 4TW GET IT GIRL_.

Keith's blood runs cold.

"I guess that's all," Keith drops the cookies back in and heaps the bentos on top of them, shutting the lid with a snap. "I guess Lance couldn't think of anything stupid enough."

"It _is_ strange," says Shiro. He's finished off his food and has set the box aside. "He's usually involved in any shenanigans, especially at your expense."

Keith picks up the PADD as he settles back into bed next to Shiro, going on the assumption that reunion snuggling is still go. When Shiro doesn't give him a funny look or kick him out, he shifts closer, poking at his screen.

"Wow, look." He holds it out so that Shiro can see the blips of multiple heat signatures moving the outside of the cave.

"We are the luckiest idiots," huffs Shiro. "Finding an electromagnetic cave on a planet with potentially-hostile, nocturnal creatures that are repelled by electromagnetic energy."

"This stinks of Pidge," says Keith. "She would have researched this before agreeing to send us here. And Black would never put us in danger, she's a big softie." 

There is the softest burble of protest in the back of his mind, and they both laugh. "They thought this through," says Shiro, sounding almost proud. "That was considerate, I suppose."

"I'm still going to kill them," says Keith. He crunches the last of the green things and shoves the remaining rice into his mouth. It's tasty but a little dry. He'd give _anything_ for an ice-cold Coke right now. He sets the empty box on the floor next to the bed and finishes off his water, swishing it in his mouth before swallowing.

"Wow, I really want a cheeseburger," says Shiro suddenly, eerily tuned into Keith's thoughts. "A huge cheeseburger from that Five Guys on Mission and Sedona." He sighs and stretches out on his back. "Remember that?" he asks, lifting his arm in invitation.

"Yeah." Keith goes happily and they're right back where they started a couple of hours ago. The lantern by the bed sends shadows skittering across the walls. Keith looks at Shiro's profile and feels his chest constrict. He tries to commit this to memory—Shiro, with his hair made iridescent and a bright, impish expression. Keith looks at him and thinks  _Joshua trees with their arms bared to the stars, the gradient of deep space into dawn on a perfect horizon, the keening of coyotes at twilight._

"What do you want, Keith?"

"What?" Keith snaps out of his daze and blinks owlishly at Shiro. "What do I—what?"

Shiro chuckles. "What do you want, right now?"

Keith thinks he might pass out. "I don't know what you—"

"From Earth," says Shiro patiently. "Like how I just told you I wanted a cheeseburger. What do you want, right now?"

"Oh." The tightness in Keith's shoulders eases. If Shiro can tell how tense he'd been, he doesn't say anything. "It's weird," says Keith. "I was just thinking that I wanted a Coke. And a cheeseburger sounds _really_ good. Though maybe not Five Guys."

"What?" Shiro sounds affronted. "You never complained when we went!"

"Because Burger King and McDonald's suck and there's no _In & Out_ in New Mexico!" Keith would have flapped his arms in exasperation were he not all but held in place. "Listen, after we get back to Earth and kick Sendak's ass into the sun, we're going to Phoenix and you're going to experience a _real_ burger. You've never had anything so good."

Shiro laughs. "I don't know," he says. "Pretty good right now. This is great. I'm warm and safe, I have Hunk's cooking in my belly, and I have you." He reaches out and gently pushes a lock of hair away from Keith's face, brushing it to the side. It falls right back into place again, making Shiro huff. Keith stares at him and for once doesn't care if he's being obvious. Something is happening. Or about to happen. He doesn't know what.

"Your eyes are so unreal, in this light," says Shiro softly, visibly awed. Keith is spellbound. "In any light. When you look at me, I feel like you're taking me apart and inspecting all the pieces."

Keith's heart pounds, hard enough that Shiro _has_ to feel it, or at least hear it. This is beyond anything Keith has ever expected from their relationship. Fantasized about, sure, but it was impossible—a six-year age difference and a deeply unbalanced power dynamic pretty much ensured it'd never happen, not to mention Shiro's committed relationship with Adam. Keith had nursed his crush silently, and after two years he'd thought he'd finally grown out of it. Then Kerberos was announced and everything came roaring back at the prospect of Shiro _leaving_ for over a year. When the mission vanished, _pilot_ fucking  _error_ , Keith recognized the same heartbreak he'd felt after his dad had died. Some nights, when the loneliness would hit hard and leave him hollow and aching, he'd admit to himself that he missed Shiro more than he did his dad, and then he'd spend days feeling guilty about it.

Then Shiro came back.

After that, Keith had given up trying to tell himself he wasn't a dumbass who'd gone and fallen in love with his best friend and mentor, the guy he went around calling _my brother_. He had done exactly that, and it'd made Keith feel very small, very weird, and, after Shiro had disappeared the second time, very alone.

Now, though. This is a game-changer. Shiro's come back damaged in a way Keith is only just beginning to understand. They've fulfilled their promise to fly together, though it's not exactly what they'd imagined. They've fought together, fought each other. Shiro had _died_. And Keith had spent two years—six months, whatever—on the back of a space whale with his alien mother. He has aged from eighteen to somewhere in his early twenties in the time they've been gone. He's older, feels older, than the other Paladins, in years and experience. Somehow, he's become their leader, bringing him and Shiro to stand on level ground. The dynamic has shifted, balanced, corrected. They're equals, at last.

Shiro touches the scar on Keith's cheek, tracing it from just under his eye to his jawline. "I want to kill the person who did this to you. That's a strange feeling, all things considered."

Keith reaches up and curls his hand around Shiro's wrist. "I know," he says earnestly. "Shiro, I know." Shiro continues to draw the tip of his finger, then the backs of his knuckles, over the scar, seemingly lost in thought. _He's remembering something_ , thinks Keith. He stays quiet, lets Shiro work through whatever he needs to. Keith's still got him by the wrist, so he runs his thumb lightly over the back of Shiro's hand. It startles him. Shiro shakes his head a little before giving Keith a goofy smile.

"Sorry," he says. "Got lost there for a minute. I told you, your eyes." Shiro drops his hand and slides it into Keith's, intertwining their fingers. He studies them for a long moment. Keith's heart is still beating so hard. Shiro's breathing is quick but even.

"Keith?"

"Yeah."

Shiro bites his lip. "Have you ever wondered..." Shiro pauses and clears his throat. He lets go of Keith's hand and picks up his water pouch to take a sip. Keith's eyes widen—Shiro's hand is shaking.

"Are you okay?" Keith asks, touching Shiro's arm. "Shiro, what's wrong?"

"Have you thought about, ah, what would have happened?" Shiro fiddles with his straw. "If you hadn't been able to save this body? I'd still be trapped inside Black. You'd never know."

Keith bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes. He can imagine it all too easily, feeling haunted by the spectre of Shiro and not realizing that it's exactly what is happening. He shakes his head to clear it, but the thoughts keep invading:  _Shiro, trapped forever, aware of Keith's presence but unable to communicate. Shiro, fading away into nothing, forgotten by everyone but Keith, until Keith is gone and it's as though Shiro had never existed. Himself, alone in the desert with nothing but his thoughts, searching for Pluto with a cheap telescope that he eventually flings into the scrub in frustration._

"We'd have figured it out," he says, swallowing hard. Shiro puts the water aside and takes up Keith's hand again. Keith feels the shaking subside, only the slightest tremor indicating it'd ever been there in the first place. "Black would have done something. I know she would have, if I'd lost the chance to save—to save you. She would have found the other clones. We could have got you out."

He's embarrassed that his voice breaks, but Shiro doesn't seem to care.

"She loves you," says Shiro softly, reverently. "I think there's only two others who love you as much as she does."

Keith looks at him quizzically.

"Your mother," says Shiro. He squeezes Keith's hand. "And me."

Keith swallows and twists to bury his face in Shiro's neck, and he can hear Shiro's breath catch in his throat. He pushes Keith away but not for long, drawing him back in, their mouths coming together easily. Keith opens his without thinking and Shiro meets him there, kissing soft and eager, his tongue cool from the water. Keith tries to keep up, the little noises at the back of Shiro's throat tell Keith he's doing a good job.

Keith shifts and pushes Shiro onto his back, climbing on him and bracketing Shiro's hips with his knees. Keith looks down at him—Shiro looks thoroughly rumpled, flushed, lips parted. _This is happening_ , thinks Keith, leaning down and palming Shiro's cheek before kissing him again, slow and steady and true. He tries to kiss the guilt away and replace it with the taste of forgiveness. He wants Shiro to understand that Keith's unwavering loyalty is built around one fundamental concept. He mumbles it into Shiro's mouth, an echo of the last time he'd said it, though without the heartbreak and desperation. Shiro pulls away a little to look him in the eye.

"He heard you," he whispers. "The clone. I remember. I heard you." The way he kisses Keith after that is all the truth Keith needs. There's a sudden uptick in urgency to Shiro's kisses; Shiro pushes his hand under Keith's shirt and breaks the kiss long enough for Keith to pull it over his head and toss it somewhere toward their gear.

"Sit up a little," says Keith, nudging Shiro's shoulder. Shiro moves and Keith works his shirt off, sliding it easily over his arm and tugging it over his metal shoulder. He drops it over the side of the bed and lunges at Shiro again, managing to plant a sloppy kiss on his chin before Shiro shoves him away. They look at each other and Keith can see his own embarrassed giddiness in Shiro's perfect smile. Shiro breaks first, laughing and falling back against his pillow, his hand over his eyes. Keith follows him, kissing his mouth properly this time before moving to suck at Shiro's jugular. Shiro squirms and makes breathy little noises that drift by Keith's ear like the flutter of a moth's wing.

"C'mere, come here," says Shiro, batting at him with his hand. Keith uses Shiro's right shoulder for leverage as he leans back up. There's a delicious little smudge of red and purple where his mouth had been on Shiro's throat. When Shiro swallows it dances across his skin. Keith whines a little and reaches out to touch it with two fingers.

"You need to be _covered_ in these," he says absently, mostly to himself. It's his new life goal, right above  _live through space war_. He leans in for another kiss.

"We should talk," blurts Shiro, though he sounds like he wants to do  _anything_ else but that. His breathing is rapid and his cheeks flushed, the scar across his nose a vivid pink. His eyes are glassy, wide-open and astonished, like he hadn't expected Keith to go along with being kissed. Keith leans in and tries to kiss the expression off his face, but Shiro puts up his hand and covers Keith's face with his palm, holding him at bay. Keith flails away and glares at him.

"Really?" says Keith, exasperated. "You want to talk. Now. We're alone in a cave, marooned together with a picnic lunch by lantern light, you just kissed me, and now you want to _talk about it_?"

Shiro nods. "Because you're kissing someone who tried really, really hard to kill you not long ago, and I kind of wonder how you feel about that. And this," he adds, gesturing to the ruined arm.

The look on his face is so heartbreakingly uncertain, Keith feels a little sick. He nods, because okay, yeah. This is important. "It's a little weird," he admits, after a moment. "He looked just like you. He sounded like you. But, listen to me, Shiro—the stuff he said and did, that _wasn't_ you and I need you to trust me that I know how to deal with it. I can  _compartmentalize_ ," he adds with a snort. "Like the Garrison counselor told me to."

"Aren't you glad I suggested him?" Shiro grins. Keith prods him in the center of his chest with two fingers. "Ow. You are so pointy."

Keith rolls his eyes. "So if you want to know how I feel about it, I feel fine. It might be hard sometime. It might be that if we keep this up I could have to stop. I don't know how it's going to go." He taps Shiro's right pectoral. "Remember that hoverbike crash, when I was fifteen or something?" He draws a line just below Shiro's clavicle. "Scar's gone. It was as long as my hand, and it's gone." Keith keeps his hand on Shiro's chest. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known it wasn't you."

"They put most of my scars in the wrong places and just left some out entirely. I guess he was a rush job. Except the one on my nose, the obvious one." Shiro reaches up and strokes Keith's hair absently. "You know, Allura and I talk when I'm over in Blue. When she did… whatever it was that she did, to put me in here," he taps the side of his head, "she saw my whole life in an instant. Everything I've ever done, though, felt—she saw it, briefly. Fortunately she only remembers a little. Most of it left her mind with me. I've asked her repeatedly if she remembers the Galra prison and she doesn't, thankfully."

Keith whistles softly. "That's gotta be strange," he says. "For both of you." Shiro nods. His hand drops from Keith's hair to his face, Shiro's fingers dancing across the scar again. If it were anyone else messing with it Keith would probably bite their hand, but Shiro's caress makes Keith's chest feel like a boat taking on too much water too quickly. He swallows hard and leans into Shiro's touch.

"My point is, none of you knew, and that's okay. _I_ didn't know I wasn't me. Haggar had us all fooled." He brushes the scar with four fingers. "I'll kill her for this. I will. I'll _never_ forget hurting you, it's worse to remember that than it is thinking about the arena. Or my arm," he adds quietly.

Keith stares. Shiro looks back wordlessly, and Keith runs both hands over his own face. "You mean that."

"Allura must have seen how I feel about you," he says. "I think she orchestrated this whole thing. I'd say I'm sorry you got tangled up in it, but it worked out well for me in the end." Shiro beams. Keith swats him on the shoulder.

"They set us both up," says Keith. "All of them. Lance said I stare at you like I want to eat you. Unrelated, Lance is an idiot."

"Was he wrong?"

"Of course not."

Shiro laughs. "Which means there's probably a party waiting for us when we get back."

_Oh god_ , thinks Keith. "And a banner," he says, exasperated.

"Aaand a banner," Shiro sighs. "Keith, listen—I love you." Keith inhales. "I don't know how the hell this will work but I want to try. Please?"

"Are you _still_ worried about how I feel?" Keith takes Shiro's hand and presses it to his chest. "Feel that? That's _you_." He pushes Shiro's hand down between his legs. "And that's you, too."

Shiro inhales sharply. He moves his hand, giving Keith a gentle squeeze that almost tilts him right off the bed.

"Are we done talking?" Keith wheezes. His body twitches with the effort of not lunging at Shiro.

Shiro's laugh is strained but sincere. "No," he says. "But I'm good with not talking for a while."

"Fucking _great_ to hear," says Keith, rocking against Shiro's hand. "Because I have jerked off to this for years." He feels a little dumb admitting that, and definitely embarrassed, but Shiro just smiles. He pulls his hand away from Keith's body—Keith keens at the loss of warm friction—and brushes his fingers along Keith's jawline. He looks content, though there's a dangerous glint in his eyes that Keith wants to know more about. He reaches out and runs his thumb over Shiro's lower lip, then replaces it with his mouth. They kiss lazily until Keith pulls away and reaches down to tug at Shiro's sleep pants.

"C'mon," he grunts. "Help me out, here." Together they wriggle Shiro out of the rest of his clothes, and Keith can't stop staring at all that beautiful skin. He runs his hands over Shiro's chest the way he'd fantasized about doing back in his tiny Garrison dorm room, whenever his roommate was out. He gazes at Shiro in wonder, eyes trailing from his eyes to his throat, to the wide expanse of his chest, to the little trail of hair below his belly button, and his—

"You too," says Shiro, tugging at Keith's shorts. "I'm the only one naked and it's kinda weird and lonely."

Keith snorts and hops off of him long enough to stand, shuck his shorts and underwear, and starts to get back into bed when he remembers. "Hang on!" he whispers unnecessarily. He dives for the basket, digging around until he find Lance's contribution. He grabs the little bottle of what Keith hopes is some kind of lubricant that won't make their dicks fall off. He turns and waggles it at Shiro who rolls his eyes and laughs, then crooks a finger at him. Keith _melts_ at Shiro's ridiculous attempt at a _come hither_ look. He looks more nearsighted than smoldering.

"Why are you like this?" he asks as he climbs back into bed. He throws his body across Shiro's again. The friction is delicious; both of them shudder. Keith braces himself against Shiro's shoulders and rocks his hips enthusiastically. Shiro gasps.

"Jesus," he wheezes. His hand comes up to clutch at Keith's hip. "That's really good."

"Yeah?" Keith grins and does it again, and again. He picks up a rhythm that Shiro meets and they rock together like a metronome. Keith thinks about sliding down and blowing Shiro, giving him the good time he deserves, but this is good too. This is more than he'd ever thought he'd get, all things considered, but war and space and death have a way of changing you.

"Wait— Just hold on—" Shiro reaches between them and the addition of a big, soft hand around their cocks makes Keith's toes curl into the blanket. "The bottle." Keith scrabbles for it, opening the cap and taking a sniff. He sags in relief. It's actual lube—what the hell store did Lance find in a _space mall_ that carried condoms and lube. Keith does not want to know, but he's grateful for the donation.

He hauls Shiro close for a messy kiss that's mostly just their teeth clicking a little painfully and the occasional swipe of tongue, before leaning back and drizzling the slick into Shiro's palm. When he wraps it around their cocks again the sensation makes both of them groan like they're dying. Keith can feel it in his _hair_.

"You good?" he asks Shiro, his words in Shiro's mouth. "How you doin'?"

Shiro huffs a warm, wet breath to the corner of Keith's lips. "I'm great," he grunts. "How about you?"

Their rhythm falters with their laughter and that adds a new twist to it, and then Shiro adds an _actual_ twist with his wrist that is better than anything Keith's ever managed to do on his own, and he's a pilot with talented hands. Keith barks in surprise as orgasm comes up on him like a roundhouse kick. He tenses and bows forward, fingernails digging into Shiro's shoulders. Things get even hotter and more slick between them and suddenly it's even _better_ , and then almost immediately it's too much and he has to pull away, batting Shiro's hand off of him. He's breathing so hard he sees stars.

Keith runs his hands over his face and then up into his hair. When he looks at Shiro he sees that he's a mess—his forelock sticks out in several directions and the flush to his face runs all the way down to his belly. That's when Keith's brain comes back online and he sees that Shiro's still hard, and it looks like it hurts.

"Sorry, sorry." Keith picks up the lube and squeezes too much into his hand. He breathes on it to warm it before curling his fingers around Shiro's cock and peering at him intently. "Tell me what to do," he says.

Shiro makes a soft sound and puts his hand over Keith's. "I had to learn how to do it again, you know?" He laughs softly. "No way I was gonna use the other hand, not there."

"I'd have let you," says Keith, giving Shiro a gentle squeeze. He delights in Shiro's strained gasp but when he relaxes his hand Shiro immediately clenches his until Keith's hold on Shiro's cock is anything but gentle.

"Like that," he hisses.

Keith obliges without question. Shiro helps him, dictating the speed of Keith's hand and the intensity of his grip. Shiro likes it the way he likes to fly, fast and tight. Keith doesn't care how he likes it, he'll give Shiro anything he wants. He tries twisting his hand the way Shiro had.

It works. Shiro's mouth falls open, his orgasm silent, eyes pinched shut. He looks exactly the way he does when Keith's landed a solid hit; training with Shiro is going to be _hell_ from now on.

Keith strokes him through the tremors until Shiro takes his hand away. Keith kisses his forehead and slips out of bed to fetch the cleaning cloths, bringing back some extra, just in case. When he's done with them and they're both a lot less gross, he chucks them over the side of the mattress to deal with in the morning. Shiro sags against him, pressing his nose to Keith's neck and snuffling happily. Keith shifts them so that they're lying down, Shiro on his back again with Keith nesting beside him. It's the way they fit together the best, though hopefully once they get to Earth Shiro will get a new arm, and they can figure out other sleeping positions then. Since it looks like that's a thing they're going to be doing, now. Hopefully, thinks Keith. Probably. Maybe?

They lay in silence for a long time, so long that when Keith twists to look Shiro's eyes are closed and his breaths are deep and even. Keith makes a face. He's wide awake, keyed up from orgasm and the thrill of the body next to his. He wants to talk, he wants to kiss. He wants to look at Shiro's dark eyes and try to map what he sees in them. He wants, he wants, he _wants_.

"You're staring at me."

"Jesus Christ." Keith's startled breath lodges in his throat. He swallows it and counts to five. "You are a dick."

Shiro chuckles and maneuvers Keith up for a kiss. Keith gets lost in it, stretching it into two kisses, four, seven. By the twelfth Shiro's peeling them apart, looking as flustered as Keith feels.

"We'd better figure this out, before we get back to the others." He tugs on Keith's earlobe. "We're not going to have any privacy until we get to our next stop."

"I know, I know." Keith pulls away and retrieves their water pouches. He hunkers down next to Shiro and sucks on the straw. "Well?"

He can _feel_ Shiro roll his eyes. "It is a terrible idea," he says. "Doing this in the middle of a war."

Keith has to roll his own eyes. "Strapping yourself to a bomb and shooting yourself into space at Mach 25 is also a terrible idea, and we both signed up for it."

"And look at us now," says Shiro. He tugs on Keith's hair. "I'm not saying no. Jesus, I am _not_ saying no, Keith."

"Then what the hell _are_ you saying?" Keith waves his water pouch around. "What's your point?"

"I don't know, maybe I don't have one." Shiro kisses the top of his head. "It's a terrible idea. Let's do it."

Keith looks up at him. "Yeah?" Shiro nods. Keith stretches up to kiss him. "Okay, yeah."

Keith finishes off his water and pokes Shiro until he drinks the rest of his, too. "Hunk would tell us to hydrate," says Keith. "Maybe I should get a couple more. Just to have on hand."

"Or not," says Shiro. "Look." He's pointing at the doorway and the first feeble rays of light stretching along the cave floor. "We might have to go, soon."

" _Soon_ isn't _right now_ ," says Keith stubbornly. He tugs Shiro over gently, fitting them together face to face. "I'm not done with you, yet."

Shiro laughs and nips Keith's nose, making Keith squawk and close the distance between them. Slow kisses stay slow, but deepening in intensity and definitely leading to something. This time, Keith shimmies down Shiro's body and works him with his mouth. He's never done it before but he's not stupid, he's seen porn, and he knows what _he'd_ like so it's worth trying it out on Shiro. It seems to go well, if the fun noises Shiro's making over Keith's head are anything to go by. Or the hand in his hair, tugging a little too hard and making Keith's eyes roll back in his head. When Shiro comes Keith pulls off quick but not quite fast enough. It's gross, it's _everywhere_ , and Keith can't stop laughing. Shiro's too much of a disaster to react beyond falling onto his back and giving Keith a thumbs-up. It makes Keith laugh harder.

Finally, still giggling, Keith finds the cloths again and cleans his face, tries to get come out of his hair. He sits back on his haunches on the bed, cock bobbing comically against his belly. He stretches his arms over his head and arches his back, enjoying the strain on his muscles, when he's suddenly hauled forward by an arm around his middle and tossed onto his back. Shiro slides down Keith's body and then there's a tongue on his dick and Keith fritzes out for a moment, brain flickering in and out like a bad connection. He'd known this would feel good once it happened to him but he was _wildly_ off about just how good.

"Shiro," he keens, tangling his fingers in Shiro's soft hair. By the lantern it looks otherworldly, like filaments catching the light as he sifts through it. He tries to keep watching the stretch of Shiro's lips around him but it's too hard to keep his eyes open. He lets them close and his head falls back against the mattress. Shiro's mouth is hot and thorough and when Keith comes his body arcs like a Tesla coil, rattling his teeth and making his head hurt. Shiro swallows even though Keith hadn't, because Shiro is fucking noble like that.

"Getting some water," Shiro says, starting to slide off the bed, but Keith catches him by the wrist and pulls him down for a quick, sticky kiss. Shiro's mouth tastes weird and salty, and Keith releases him quickly.

"Water for me, too," he says, smacking his lips and making a face. Ugh. "That's bad. You don't have to do that. _I'm_ not doing it."

"That's fair," says Shiro, handing a water to Keith before sitting on the mattress and taking a long pull from his own pouch. "But I don't mind it, so I'm going to keep doing it. I won't kiss you after, though." He grins. "It's not for everybody, and it doesn't mean you love me any less."

"I know that," says Keith, but he's glad to hear it anyway. He drinks and admires Shiro's naked profile. It's the play of shadows across the planes of Shiro's body that makes Keith look away, over at the door. There are true beams of light slanting along the cave floor—it is definitely morning. "We should probably go see if Black's cooperating yet."

As if on cue, there's a roar outside and the sound of heavy metal paws landing on rock. Keith and Shiro exchange a look. "Drama queen," says Keith. Black scolds him. Shiro chuckles; he must have heard her.

"Let's get dressed and get our stuff," he says. "We really need to get back to the others, we've been gone a lot longer than we should have been and I'm itching to lecture them about it."

Keith laughs. "You love a good lecture," he says. "I've got most of them memorized by now." He dances out of the way before Shiro can thump him in the arm. "My favorite is the 'I'm not disappointed in  _you_ but in your  _actions_ ' one."

"Just get your stuff, jerk."

"That's _Leader of Voltron_ to you, Shirogane."

He sees Shiro shiver. "Yes, sir."

_Oh, that's interesting_. Keith files that away for future scrutiny and potential practical application.

They retrieve their clothes and pack them away, putting their armor back on. Keith gathers up their trash and puts it all in a little bag to be tossed into Black's incinerator. Finally they trudge out into the blinding light of the suns, and Black is standing right there, looking down at them expectantly. When she sees them her typically authoritative presence in Keith's mind turns into a wriggly, blissed-out housecat, and she opens her jaw for them.

Keith stashes their overnight gear, making sure to hide the condoms and lube in Shiro's room, where no one's likely to look and if they do, who cares. Not his problem if they see more than they bargained for, it's on them anyway. This was their idea.

Keith ends up doing most of the digging for the crystal, regretting his armor almost immediately. Shiro rocks the crystal back and forth to loosen the rocks around it, until finally they can tip it onto the loading cart. Rolling it back to the Lion takes almost no effort at all, it's so light. If it weren't so big and awkward, Keith could have carried it himself. As it is, there's some careful maneuvering involved in getting it up the ramp and into the cargo hold, with only three hands between them. Eventually they're able to strap it down, and Black shuts her jaw and stands up.

Keith drops into the pilot's seat and runs his hands over the controls, letting Black's presence wash over him, preparing them both for flight. Shiro comes up to stand behind him. "Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah," says Keith. Take-off is smooth and Keith eases them into orbit, then out of it, soaring past three of the six moons. Wordlessly Keith pulls up a rear-view shot of the little dwarf planet growing smaller and smaller behind them, until it's just another glowing dot surrounded by other glowing dots.

"We should come back sometime," says Shiro softly. "When this is over."

"Sounds good to me," says Keith. He reaches over with one hand and grasps Shiro's, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the palm. When he lets go to put his hand back on the control, Shiro touches Keith's cheek, fingers trailing along the scar. Keith closes his eyes for just a moment, soaking in the warmth of Shiro's hand. _This is mine, now_ , he thinks. _I get to have this._ It floods him with an odd, not-unpleasant anxiety, anticipation for what lies ahead and the unsettling knowledge that he can't see any of it coming. He's lasted this long by being one step ahead of everyone else, but he can't predict this. He doesn't know what's going to happen, and it's as terrifying as it is wonderful.

"What do we tell the others?" asks Shiro, pulling his hand back to rest on Keith's shoulder. "They're going to want details."

"Well, we could either pretend nothing happened, or we can give them _all_ the details—the vivid, thorough details." Keith grins up at Shiro, who laughs.

"Lance might be a little too into that," he says. "I say we play dumb. Though it won't work if Black tells on us."

Keith looks at the ceiling. "Think you can keep a lid on it for a little bit, big girl?" He closes his eyes and listens to the _thud_ of her magical, mechanical, beautiful heart. He gets an acknowledgement and then a reluctant agreement, almost petulant. Keith laughs and opens his eyes to Shiro's smirk. "She's in."

The trip seems quicker this time. They're already coming up on the planet. Shiro stands with his hand on the back of Keith's seat, watching the displays. They're silent for a while, but it's the silence of thinking, of processing everything that's happened to them in the last 24 vargas. For Keith, self-reflection means second-guessing himself, snapping out of it, then beginning the cycle again. It's hard to focus. God help them if the Galra show up, he's so distracted he'd probably blow themselves up.

Then Shiro's hand comes to rest on his shoulder. His thoughts slow down to the same lazy spin as the Earth. Calm washes over him and his grip on the controls become stronger, steadier. He looks up at Shiro and smiles, bathing in the smile he gets in return. Black hums in his ear. Keith asks her—thinks at her, opens himself and exposes his insides to her, as though she can't already see them—if he's doing the right thing, pouring all of his uncertainty into it. She whuffles at him in return, a sensation like water rippling beneath his skin, like sharp things and hot breath at his throat. It's reassuring, like a cat carrying its offspring. Keith recognizes it from how he feels about his mother.

_Thanks, big girl_ , he thinks. She rumbles and retreats. Keith relaxes just as Shiro's grip tightens, and he twists to look up at him. "Shiro?"

He shakes his head. "Sorry." Shiro looks bewildered. "Black's pretty happy about this. I feel like—like my brain is being  _groomed_." Keith loses it, howling into his hand while Shiro looks exasperated. "Listen, I don't know how else to—would you  _stop laughing_ —"

Keith can feel it as Black switches to autopilot and starts her descent into the planet's atmosphere. Keith releases the controls and rises, turning around and pulling Shiro close and kissing him soundly, to stifle his embarrassment. Shiro returns it, and for a moment they just stand together, kissing lazily while Black lands in a semicircle with the other Lions. When Keith and Shiro finally part, Black has already lowered her head, mouth open.

Pidge is the first one to greet them when they emerge. "Hey!" she says, a little too eager for how casual she's trying to be. "You were gone so long!"

"Mm, yeah." Keith does his best to sound annoyed and bored. "Black pranked us and wouldn't let us fly back, so we set up camp. Except there was rain, and we lost half our stuff." He doesn't like the lie, but they started this prank and Keith is going to finish it.

"To just rain?" Pidge asks, her smile faltering. "Everything we have is pretty much waterproof."

"It was acid rain," says Shiro gravely. Keith bites the inside of his own cheek.

"Really hot acid," he says. "We ended up in a cave, and it was _really_ cold."

Shiro sighs. "Prison was better," he adds, and Keith almost rolls his eyes. He can feel Black do the same.

It works, though. Pidge's face crumples. "Oh no," she says. "Oh, we're so sorry." She lunges at Shiro in a desperate hug. "It was a joke. We were trying to _help_ ," she wails.

Keith knows Shiro's going to break immediately, and he's right. "Pidge, Katie—I was kidding." He pulls her off of him and looks her in the eye. "We had a great time. Thank you. It was a good prank."

"You— You asshole!" Pidge slugs him in the chest. She winces and shakes out her hand. "You had me worried we'd sent you to some alien hellscape."

Keith shakes his head. "Nah," he says. "It was good." As they walk back to the others, they tell Pidge about the little house, and Hunk's lunches. Keith leaves out Lance's contribution. Lance comes barreling toward them, Allura and Romelle at his heels.

"Hey!" says Lance. "How was the trip? How long does it take to grab some dumb energy thingy?"

Keith shrugs. "It was fine," he says. Pidge stifles a giggle, badly, next to him. Lance looks crestfallen.

"Did you like the food—ow." asks Hunk. He makes a face; Keith's mother has just stepped on his foot. Keith really, really wants to laugh.

"Really good, Hunk," says Keith. Hunk preens. "You're a wizard."

Allura appears at his side. "So, the trip was 'fine'?" she asks. "Nothing _interesting_ happened?"

"Oh, there were _six moons_ ," says Shiro, beaming. "That was pretty cool."

They all stare at Shiro, at both of them. "You're _kidding_ ," says Romelle. "You've got to be joking. We did everything right!"

"Joking about what?" asks Shiro. Keith looks over; Shiro is doing a piss-poor job of hiding his smile. "What did you do right?"

" _Everything_ ," they all whine in unison. Allura turns to Lance like she's going to launch into a diatribe directed solely at him—they must have cooked up the idea together—when Shiro starts to giggle. With that, Keith finally gives in and joins him. Everyone stares at them.

"You're assholes," says Pidge. "Total dicks."

"You pranked us first," says Keith. "Listen, we appreciate what you tried to do. It was a noble effort."

Allura and Lance look particularly put out. "It didn't _work,_ though." says Lance, looking from Shiro to Keith and back again. "I mean, if you ate Hunk's food then I _know_ you saw what I put in there."

"Yes," says Keith. Shiro leans over and kisses his temple.

"It came in handy," says Shiro. Keith elbows him, hard. "What? C'mon, that was funny."

Hunk, Romelle, and Coran screech. Lance teaches Allura how to fist bump. Keith's mother catches his eye and winks; Keith wants to fling himself into the nearest sun.

Pidge hugs Keith and Shiro at the same time—as best she can—and says she's happy for them.

"Best Man," she says to them. "Best. Man." She points at herself. Keith rolls his eyes.

"Hey," says Shiro. He takes Keith's hand and gives it a squeeze. "You okay?"

Nodding, Keith squeezes back. "I'm good," he says. "Hungry. Let's go eat." He tugs Shiro into the camp, where Hunk and Lance have a buffet of weird space food spread out on blankets and flight cases. Shiro was right, it is a party.

And yes, there's a banner.

—

_And true it may seem like a stretch_  
_But it's thoughts like this that catch_  
_My troubled head when you're away_  
_And when I am missing you to death_

_—_

_fin_

 

**Author's Note:**

> The little house is modeled after both Obi-Wan's and Yoda's houses.


End file.
